Thank you! Don't forget to confirm subscription in your email.
A band director recruits a Harlem street drummer to play at a Southern university.
Dr. Lee: So what's the concept? The Band: ONE BAND, ONE SOUND!
Dr. Lee: I don't know what beef is between you, but you'd better grill it up and eat it, because it is my ass that is on the line.
Jason: I'm trying to get my spot back! Devon: How? By river-dancing with your drum?
Jason: I DO love my drum!
Sean: I've had it with your no talent, wannabe gangster ass! You wanna prove once and for all that I'm better than you? Strap up! Devon: Bring it on, big brother tin man!
Sean: You're the best, Devon! But when we're on the field, nobody hears you! They hear the band.
Devon: I can't really read music. Mr. Wade: Oh, that's all right, son. Some people can't read the sign that says "toilet". Doesn't mean they don't know how to use it.
Jason: Hey, Charles what's up with your socks man? Charles: Don't worry about my socks man, it's a tuba thang shorty. Jason: Better be.
James: Somebody need to give that brother a shot of cognac or something cause for the past four yearsat he BET classic, Morris Brown been spankin that ass, spankin that ass.
Dr. Lee: Hit 'em with a little Flight Of The Bumblebee!
Dr. Lee: Okay, the radio is off now. Time for the real music.
Devon: I'm the best drummer you got!
Diedre: Hey Devon, ya know, if you keep messing up, Ernest actually might get a chest. Ernest: And Diedre might get strong enough to pick up a hot comb.
Dr. Lee: Mr. Miles, I guess you didn't like the required piece as written. Devon: Naw, I just thought I'd add a little somethin' somethin' on the end.
Dr. Lee: It's showtime!
Dr. Lee: Aah, the musicianship of hip hop.
Devon: Oh snap! Now you can see me?
Devon: They don't tell you about all this when they recruit you.
